Ignis
by Stadtfeld
Summary: Magnus Bane had chosen to disassociate himself from the Shadowhunters, and once again returns to the lavish lifestyle as the High Warlock of Brooklyn. But things are made to change yet again when an incident occurs - one involving Clarissa Fray, the girl he had watched grow up.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE.**

Humans, within their short lifespan, have been said to be capable of creating at least one, if not numerous, emotional connections with other individuals. Through history, it has been evident that most people are bound to find what is termed as "love" in another, and it is through that, that various other experiences and emotions are unleashed, enhancing one's journey through life.

That being said, Magnus Bane was not human. He was a warlock; half a demon. Also, he did not have a short life span. Magnus Bane was about 800 years old. Surely, he couldn't experience these connections?

Alas, he could, and he did. Throughout his time walking the earth, the_ magnificent_ – as he claimed himself to be – Magnus Bane had been in countless relationships with creatures of all sorts. Some were fleeting, some were casual and fun, and some – fortunately or unfortunately, depending on perspective – serious. One of them was a certain vampire, Lady Camille, who, beautiful and immortal as she was and still is, left him. Another, a young, painfully mortal Shadowhunter named Alec Lightwood, attempted to shorten the warlock's lifespan. A loving gesture with the intention of having them live, age and die together, yet awfully twisted to the point where Magnus had realized they just wouldn't work. Pity.

And so there ended the chapter of Magnus Bane's life as a Shadowhunter pet, and while a short period of his time had been spent in broken spirits over a lost love, the warlock had moved on and back into the party scene, once again as the reputable High Warlock of Brooklyn.

In the time that Magnus had spent holed up in his fancy apartment, the world had moved along with much happening. For one, the Shadowhunter trio had, on Isabelle's insistance that it would be good for Alec _and_ Jace for some reason, been transferred out of the country temporarily to serve in some European country which had somehow run short of their own demon-killing people. It might have been France. Magnus wasn't sure, since he had virtually cut all ties with them.

Though, after his return – which elicited several _ooh_'s and _ahh_'s – Magnus had learnt that Clary Fray was the only one who stayed behind, with her parents insisting that she stay in the country within their reach. Then again, they weren't to blame for being overprotective, given what Clary had been through since learning of her identity as a Shadowhunter. Parental restrictions... Magnus wondered what it actually felt like.

It was as if his life had returned, and would remain normal – well, as normal as the life of Magnus Bane could get. And fortunately, that at least meant that he could detach himself from any Shadowhunter drama.

Only, being Magnus Bane had just as many complications as it had perks.

It had been a long night, a night which housed a massive party hosted by the High Warlock. Magnus had just made his way back to his apartment, slightly tipsy but otherwise alert enough to function at near normal levels. The sun had maybe a couple hours before it peeked out over the horizon, and Magnus was set straight on being able to fall into the oblivion of sleep before then. Then again, not everything went as planned.

A loud knock on the door interrupted the warlock just as he was about to remove his glitter, and with a slight frown, he made his way to a little device attached to one of the walls. The device, as it seemed, was the control centre for the security camera set up outside the door. Looking at the screen, Magnus saw a lone figure who, much to his irritation, continued to pound on the door. Another looks and he realized that he knew the irritant – it was Luke.

Opening the door, Magnus gave the werewolf a bored look. "You do know it's four in the morning?"

"Not like you're asleep anyway," Luke grunted in annoyance, but Magnus could see that his eyes shone with fear and desperation more than anything. Then, as if remembering why he was here in the first place, the man looked at Magnus, his expression serious. "Clary's been kidnapped."

Magnus stilled. Clary was... He shook his head, and the look in his eyes hardened. "It has nothing to do with me," he said coldly. "I've cut all ties with those Shadowhunters."

"Please, Magnus. _Those Shadowhunters_ aren't here. You're the only one we can turn to," Luke pleaded. "You've known Clary since she was a child!"

"Clary was no more than a client. I hope you understand, Luke, that I am _done_ with this business," he waved his hand at nothing in particular. "Or better yet, stay baffled over my actions. Then hopefully you won't come back." The door slammed.

A few seconds later, Luke turned and sprinted off down the road, probably in search of someone else who would help him, while Magnus had sunk to ground with his back against the door. It had taken quite a lot of effort for him to keep his indifference towards the matter, but the warlock had reminded himself that it was over for him, that his close connection to the Shadowhunters had brought nothing but trouble and there was no way he would ever muddle in their affairs again.

Except this time, it was entirely a Shadowhunter affair. It was Clary.

. . .

On the second night after Luke's visit, Magnus was holding another party, this time in commemoration of Chairman Meow's first ball of yarn it had toyed with, which had the unpleasant fate of rolling out onto the street and down a drain.

Everything was going smoothly – as smoothly as a party filled with Downworlders could go – but there was only one problem: the host was no where to be found. Not that it really mattered anyway, in the sense that, in typical Magnus-Bane-party fashion, there were too many people in the area for anyone to really realize that the warlock was not _within_ the area. Unless specifically searching for him, one would simply assume that Magnus was merely somewhere else, swept off by the crowd. After all, what type of host would miss out on their own party?

In truth, Magnus was holed up in his private, soundproof room which kept the thrum of the party away from his ears. Lounging back onto the lush purple velvet armchair, the warlock had his eyes on the ground, his thoughts wandering.

_Clary's been kidnapped_, Luke's words rang in his head. _You've known Clary since she was a child!_

A frowned crossed Magnus' smooth features. He wasn't sure what to feel about the issue, or more precisely, whether to feel how he _should_ or how he was, well, currently feeling but refusing to acknowledge it. The wise warlock desperately wanted to shut out his emotions and his instincts, which were screaming at him to do something, _anything_, that would help Clary, but his pride and stubbornness were preventing him from doing so. Eight hundred years of living and he still couldn't conquer his internal struggles. Brilliant.

The sound of glass breaking snapped his mind back to reality. Magnus looked down to see the glass of name wine he was holding in his hand in pieces just at the edge of the lush red carpet on the floor. The dark liquid had spread and seeped into and stained the material. Though, the breaking of the glass had acted as a catalyst – Magnus had decided what he was going to do about Clary's kidnapping, and it also gave him an excuse to purchase a new carpet.

Standing and striding purposefully out of the door, Magnus navigated his way through the cloud, as swiftly and quietly as he could manage, and finally stepped out into the chilly night air. His brisk walk gradually turned into a sprint, and soon the warlock was zipping down the streets towards his destination. Much time had been lost, and Magnus would never forgive himself if anything happened to Clary because of his indecision. As much as he wanted to stroll into the nearest furniture shop to look out for a replacement carpet, there were more pressing matters at hand, and Magnus would be damned if he wasted another second.

. . .

Jocelyn Fray sat down by the phone, wringing her hands nervously, waiting for any news, good or bad. Clary had been gone for three days, her captors – whoever they were – had not placed any demands, and there was no help that they could find. Magnus Bane was her first choice, but even he had turned them down. With the other Shadowhunters out of the country, all hope was lost.

A sharp knock on the door jolted her out of her despair ridden thoughts. The woman hurried over to and opened the door, her eyes a mix of fear and hope, but an expression of utter confusion overcame her when she saw the tall boy standing at her doorstep – or more precisely, an 800 year old warlock.

"Magnus Bane?" she stared.

"Can I?" he gestured into her house. Jocelyn stepped aside and he made his way into the small apartment. A few seconds later and they were sitting in the lounge room.

"So uh, about Clary," Magnus began. "When did this all... start?"

A faraway look was in Jocelyn's eyes. "Well it uh, it happened on Tuesday night. She was in her room, it was late. Then suddenly we heard her screaming." Her hands trembled. "So Luke and I went up to check, but by that time, she was already gone. The room was a mess, so obviously she tried to fight him. We even found this," Jocelyn got up and retrieved a blade from the mantel. "It's not Clary's."

"So the abductor was a Shadowhunter," Magnus frowned. "Did you have other enemies besides Valentine?"

"Not that we know of, no."

"Where's Luke?"

"He's been out for the past two days looking for help. There's no one we can turn to, Magnus. The Shadowhunters aren't here, and the Werewolves refuse to help. Said we were trouble." Tears started to form in her eyes.

Just then, the door opened. Luke stepped into the area, a look of confusion in his eyes that Magnus almost missed due to the tiredness that bled through his expression.

"Magnus," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Luke," Jocelyn stood. "Did you find anything? Anyone?"

The werewolf shook his head sadly. "I'm so sorry this happened, Jocelyn. I couldn't protect Clary. It's my fault she got taken."

"No, it isn't," the woman insisted. "Don't blame yourself."

"No, no. It was my idea to have her stay here. If she had gone with the Shadowhunters to Europe, she would've been safe. They could protect her better."

"Granted, that was a stupid decision," Magnus nodded. "Three of them sure beats one of you. I wonder how you've managed to get through all those years with that sort of judgement."

Jocelyn glared half heartedly at the warlock. She didn't have it in her to deal with his snarky attitude – not when there were more pressing matters at hand.

"But, luckily for you two, I've decided to grace you with my assistance," he paused. "Clary means a lot more to me than I realize," he admitted with a frown, then looked up at them, his eyes serious. "I'll get her back to you, whatever it takes."

Magnus left the small apartment, pulling his jacket tighter around his lean frame as though the cold affected him. From all the information he had gathered, the warlock had decided that he wasn't going to be able to do this alone, or rather, he didn't want to. As much as working with the Shadowhunters again irritated him, getting Clary back was his priority. Though, that didn't mean he was going to interact with them much, or that he would be nice to them.

He set off down the road, choosing to walk to his destination on the other side of town. It gave him time to think, and more than than, it gave him the opportunity to irritate the one he would be visiting.

. . .

Tessa Gray was not pleased when the doorbell rang three hours past midnight.

"Magnus," she greeted, her tone flat.

The male warlock grinned at his friend as he stood outside her door. "Glad to see you're still awake," he moved past her into her apartment.

Closing the door, Tessa sighed. "What do you want, Magnus?"

"Your company." When she raised an eyebrow, his grin dropped. "Are you always so skeptical of my motives? I'm offended, Miss Gray." Then his expression grew serious as he began to relay the entire incident to his friend.

"So what are you planning to do?" Tessa asked. She could see that Magnus was greatly affected by this, worry and determination flickered in his eyes.

"I'll cast a spell to find her first. Then I'll go to her, meet the demands of her captor, and free her," he stated simply.

Tessa scoffed. Trust Magnus Bane to make something as serious as this sound easy.

"Also, there's one thing I need you to do."

Ah, yes. Of course he needed a favor. It would be foolish to think that the great Magnus Bane would pay her a visit just to talk.

"Contact those Shadowhunters for me. The Lightwoods..." Magnus frowned slightly, "and that blond boy. Tell them Clary's in danger and I want to meet them, nothing else."

"Why can't you tell them?" Tessa glared.

"Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't want anything to do with them, but this is for Clary's sake, so I must – but at a distance," he stood. "Thank you, Tessa. You're a good friend." And with that he strode out of her home.

Tessa's expression softened once she heard the door close and she was alone. The way her friend spoke about Clary – it was evident that Magnus clared for the girl a lot more than he cared to admit, or even realized. It wasn't unexpected though. He had known her since she was a child, had entered her mind, watched her grow up. Once, Tessa had been around when Jocelyn Fray had brought her daughter to the warlock, and never had she seen him so delighted. His expression had lit up the moment the child entered the room. Maybe a long time ago, when Magnus was with Camille, he wore a similar expression. Maybe even when he was with that boy, Alec, but even then the light was dim. His feelings for Clary, Tessa concluded, stemmed from more than romantic interest. There was a deeper sense of affection he held for the girl, and romanticly or not, it was undeniable that Magnus Bane cared for Clarissa on a level beyond what he felt for any other.

The last thing Tessa wanted was for Magnus to get hurt, because as different as their personalities were, he was her friend, her best friend. Maybe even her only friend, considering how her uptight characteristics left her with little social success. She had known him for a long, long time, and yet Magnus Bane was still a mystery to her. What she did know, however, was that the warlock, despite his outward appearances, craved companionship more than anything.

There wasn't much she could do for Magnus, but she would try, no matter what it took, especially if it meant giving him happiness.

Tessa picked up the phone. "Shadowhunter? This is Tessa Gray. I'm sorry to tell you this, but Clarissa Fray has been kidnapped."

. . .

By the time Magnus had got back to his apartment, it was almost five in the morning. The neighbourhood was still quiet, with seemingly none of its inhabitants out and about yet save for a single cat.

The warlock made his way up to his home, locked the door, drew the blinds and set to work. From his coat pocket, he retrieved the blade which they believed was left behind by Clary's abductor. Not too long after, the centre of his room was set up to perform a tracking spell.

Magnus let a string of incantations flow, and his hands, one still clasping the foreign blade while the other held a handful of iron shavings, began to glow a deep blue colour. Directly in front of him, on the floor, was a large map of New York. Then, he swung his arm which held the shavings in a wide arc, scattering the iron bits all across the sheet. As soon as the shavings touched the paper, they began to move, filing along in messy lines until they all reached the same point on the map. The spell was done.

Magnus bent down and inspected the area in which his magic had pointed to, and realized that it was an old building block around a dozen miles away. Well, now that wasn't so hard. He had a location, a rough guess of what type of enemy he would be facing, and a good idea of his own capabilities. What he also had, was eight hundred years of experience, and so, while he did have a high opinion of his own powers, Magnus would not be going in alone. As much as he despised the fact, he would need to wait for the other three Shadowhunters to arrive. Convincing himself that it would be fine, and that it was for Clary's sake, the warlock dropped everything and crashed onto his bed. It wasn't as if he could do anything about, and Magnus Bane wasn't anyone if he couldn't keep his head during critical times. Worrying about the issue would solve nothing, and he relished the opportunity of getting some rest.

After all, it was an eight hour flight from France. He had time.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO.**

Clarissa Fray regained her conciousness in a dimly lit cell. Her first thought was of how cliché the whole situation was, what with her being bound by chains to the wall, the only scenery available to her being another cell through iron bars.

Then it hit her, how she had been kidnapped from the safety of her home.

Thinking back, Clary recalled the whole scenario. One moment, she was on the bed, drawing a portrait – of whom, she did not quite know, as the whole head area was left blank save for roughly sketched frame– and the next, a stranger had broken in through her window. A scuffle ensured, a blade was drawn and then knocked out of hand, then somehow the intruder had hit her on the head and that was the last thing she knew.

Lost in her thoughts, Clary didn't notice the figure that had stepped up to her cell on the other side of the iron bars.

"Clarissa."

Her head snapped up, and she glared when she realized it was the same person who had abducted her – black hair, pale skin and all. "What do you want?" she snapped, putting on more bravado than she thought she could manage.

"How straightforward. Well then, I shall indulge you." When he sat down on the ground as if ready for a campfire storytime session, Clary made up her mind that the guy was a nutcase. "I'm a Shadowhunter like you, and your father was my mentor at one point in time."

Clary stilled, but when she said nothing, he continued.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your father," he said, knowing full well that she thought nothing of Valentine. "But fret not, I'm around to carry out his mission. Although I must say, the time spent with your brother Jonathan has... changed my view on certain things, so it might not be exactly how your father wanted it. But no matter – for this, I need your help, Clarissa. Yours, and your peers."

"Valentine was a sad excuse of a father, and an even worse one of a human. I want nothing to do with his or your warped ideals, and neither will my _peers_ help you," she hissed. "They're not even in the country. You could even say we're not even friends anymore." Clary wasn't lying. Things were tense between them all, maybe except for Isabelle and Magnus, but even then, she hadn't seen them in a while.

"I'm aware of that, yes," the man nodded sympathetically. "Though, I'll give them some time, maybe when they get back. But the warlock though... he's the interesting one. I have an associate who's just dying to reunite with him," he chuckled at what Clary presumed to be a twisted joke he was having with himself. "I suppose you should make yourself feel comfortable, since there's no way of knowing how long you might be here. It all depends on how your friends cooperate." He stood. "I'll see you again soon, Clarissa."

Once the man had left, Clary leaned back against the wall with a sigh. As courteous as he seemed to be, she was sure that he was someone who wouldn't hesitate to end a life if he wasn't pleased. From their conversation, she could gather that he was evidently dangerous, having worked with Valentine. Besides that, he also had at least one accomplice, if not more.

Though, the real question was what he was planning. A mixture of Valentine and Jonathan's ideals was bound to be sick and deadly, and the fact that this man had kept himself hidden all the while gave her a bad feeling. It was horrible, being locked up and not being able to do anything, but moping around was useless. With a refreshed sense of purpose, Clary put her head to use. If and when her friends did come for her, she hoped there would be at least something useful she could tell them.

. . .

A sharp rap on the door did little to stir Magnus from his sleep, but a noise cause by kicking down a door did, and suffice to say, the warlock was not pleased. Hair disheveled as he sat up, Magnus watched three Shadowhunters file into his room.

"It's only six in the morning," he glared through half shut eyes.

"Sorry," Jace said, clearly not feeling guilty. "This was the fastest flight we could get."

Magnus sighed, then shifted the thick quilt away before swinging his legs over the edge of the massive bed. Isabelle raised an eyebrow at the blue silk boxers the warlock had on, but said nothing more. Anyone who knew Magnus Bane would understand that it made perfect sense to him to use a quilt to keep warm yet not have any pants on.

"Out," Magnus ordered, half dragging his feet to the bathroom. "I'll be ready in a bit. And do something about my door."

About half an hour later, the warlock stepped out into the street, having donned on a pair of bright red pants and a maroon jacket, make-up and glitter all on, hair spiked and glossy. He looked back at the fixed door – if simply placing the large wooden board against the opening could be called fixed – and raised an eyebrow.

"There's no time to properly fix it unless you do it yourself," Jace said, clearly not sorry about the state of the door. "We need to get Clary. _Now_."

Oh, so the boy still loved Clary. Now Magnus was interested as to why they broke up. But speaking of break ups... He stole a quick glance at Alec Lightwood, who had not said a word since they met. The boy's eyes were trained away from Magnus, and that elicited a smirk from the warlock. It would seem that he didn't have as much luck as Magnus when it came to putting everything behind him – if there had been anything to put behind to begin with.

"You're right. Only I can do it," Magnus waved his hand and the door attached itself back to the hinges, splintered bits piecing back together. "Now," he clapped his hands together, "let's go."

It took over an hour for the four to reach the building which Magnus had pinpointed – the map was still on the floor in his apartment, and right before they had left, he had checked to see that the iron shavings had not moved. They had stopped at a cafe diagonally opposite to the building which, to their surprise, had not been glamoured. It was just a plain, albeit large warehourse block, though there were no openings for them to see what was inside.

"So, Jace," Magnus started, "fastest, deadliest Shadowhunter of our time. What do you propose we do to get your girlfriend back?"

"She's not my girlfriend anymore," Jace brushed it off, though Magnus could see the emotion flicker through his eyes for the briefest of seconds. "And I say, we go in head on from different sides. If Clary's in there, we kill all of them. Otherwise, take one alive."

"Fine by me," Isabelle stood. Clarissa was a friend to her, and whatever happened between her and Jace, that fact didn't change.

"Usually I don't like working in the morning but oh well," Magnus sighed as they walked out.

"Where's her vampire friend?" Alec asked, that being the first time he had spoken since his arrival.

Magnus shrugged. "According to Jocelyn, they had no one to turn to, so I'm presuming that he's... not within the radar. I was their only hope."

"And I thought that you didn't want anything to do with Shadowhunters anymore," Isabelle teased.

"Clary's different," was all the warlock said. Unbeknownst to him, as he was walking ahead, Alec and Jace both tensed slightly. The blond one even stopped for a bit. Isabelle merely raised an eyebrow.

As they moved on, the two male Shadowhunters kept their eyes on the tall warlock, both minds furiously trying to compute what he had meant, but put their emotional issues aside when they reached the warehouse.

A minute or so later, the Shadowhunters burst into the building, only to see it dark and bare save for a lone figure sitting in the centre, cross-legged on the ground. With a single look, it was evident that the figure was a male, with a head of dark hair and a slender build. When he failed to show any outward signs of acknowledging their presence, the Shadowhunters edged closer.

Then, he looked up, and Jace, who was approaching from the front, took in the dark eyes and pale skin which had been shown. He was an adult, but young, maybe in his early 20's. Then the man stood, and smiled.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," he spoke, his voice smooth. "Though I must say, I wasn't quite expecting the three of you. You were supposed to be in Paris," he shook his head.

"Then who were you expecting?" Jace asked. "There's no greater honour than having Jace Lightwood personally come for you, if I'm being honest."

The man chuckled softly. "I suppose it's true, but I guess I was merely hoping to have to deal with one of you first. More precisely, your pet warlock."

"We don't have a pet warlock," Alec frowned, his voice betraying nothing.

"Ah, but you see, even if he isn't yours to command, Magnus Bane has proved to be quite a hindrance, what with him helping you lot. On his own free will on top of that, as you tell me. I was hoping that he would come. I suppose I was wrong to think that Clarissa Fray was that important to him." His voice held a tinge of disappointment.

"Ouch, I'm offended by that." Magnus stepped in from a large hole in the back wall. "I've lived for centuries and seen people come and go, but it doesn't mean I don't hold any value in them."

"Magnus Bane," he seemed genuinely happy. "I'm delighted."

"Cut the crap," Jace growled. "Where's Clary?"

"Oh, how rude of me. Yes, Clary. Clarissa Fray. Your friend is safe. She was unconscious for a bit at the start, and I was beginning to worry, but she's fine now."

"Who are you and what do you want?" Isabelle glared, her blade poised to strike.

"Ah. Another mistake of mine. Very well— my name is Corvus Ravenlore, Shadowhunter and one time apprentice to the late Valentine Morgenstern."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE.**

And so this brings the second chapter to a close.

Herdcat, thank you so much for your comment. I'm delighted to know that you find this story promising, and I hope I won't disappoint.

Also, to any who may have concerns that I might drop this fic, please don't worry. I always finish my fics, however long they may take.

This chapter is a little shorter than the first, and I apologize, but I like to cut off my chapters at appropriate points rather than at a set word count.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE.**

The atmosphere was thick with tension as the group of four – three Shadowhunters and one warlock – sat around the large living room that seemed far too small at the moment. The meeting they had with Clary's kidnapper seemed like it had been for nought.

The man, who introduced himself as Corvus Ravelore and claimed to be a former student of Valentine Morgenstern, had gave them no answer as to Clary's whereabouts, or what his intentions were. Even without engaging with him, Magnus knew that the man was dangerous. He carried a certain aura about him, and the look in his eyes was akin to someone who knew exactly what they were doing, and seemed to think that there was nothing twisted about it.

_Honestly, I'd anticipated this,_ he had said, _though I really hoped that only one of you would show up._

As Jace commented on how it seemed that_ the world is just hell bent on making things hard_ for him, a column of smoke had erupted around Corvus, and when all had settled, he was gone.

Now they were virtually back at square one, having only gained a new presumption that Corvus had a warlock working for him, which explained the smoke and his disappearance. Aside from that, they had no idea as to what he was working towards, or where Clary was being kept.

"I think we should go back to the Institute," Isabelle spoke, breaking the silence. "Check the archives, ask around. If he's left any trails at all, we'll find it."

"I agree," Magnus said, more concerned with getting them out of his home than actually thinking that some archives would hold any hope.

Isabelle stood. "Come on Alec."

As the siblings strode towards the door, she turned around to see Jace still sitting in the lounge. "Jace?" she proded. "You coming?"

"Of course he is," Magnus frowned, genuinely worried that the blond would choose to stay. Then he would have the issue of dealing with him before he could move onto other useful things, like locating Clary. If only a tracking spell could be used, but Magnus was sure that – especially after meeting him – Corvus was no idiot, and if he did indeed have a warlock working for him, most likely, a spell would've been place on Clary to prevent any tracking spell from reaching her. The only reason Corvus didn't have one placed on himself was because he _wanted_ to be found.

"No," Jace stood. "I'm going to search for Clary. There's only so many places she can be hidden at." He moved past his friends and out onto the street before taking off in a easterly direction.

"Isn't he lucky it's almost winter now," Magnus remarked. Running around in the summer heat wouldn't have been a very viable option - at least, not to the average person. "Just a reminder but if any of you want to come back here, please make sure your bodies are sweat and stench free."

He watched them leave, clearly pleased with getting all of them out of his sanctuary. After closing the door, the warlock made his way to his room, and let himself fall onto the bed, sinking into the soft quilt.

If only Jocelyn had never come to him for help, he wouldn't be in this mess. He would never have gotten involved with Shadowhunters, nor would he have met Alec. Thankfully, Magnus had settled himself, and Alec Lightwood no longer posed a problem in his mind.

Though, that didn't mean he was completely at peace. Clary had been kidnapped, and that was a cause for concern for anyone who was on friendly terms with her, but the nagging feeling he got was different. It felt deeper, more urgent. Magnus didn't think that it was purely the desire to get her back to safety, but rather, he wanted her back _with him_. Clary had always been important to him, but it would seem that only now, he realized how much.

His phone rang, and Magnus answered, but only because it was within reach – he was in no mood to get up and retrieve anything at the moment. "Bane."

"_Magnus. It's lovely to hear your voice again._" Magnus recognized the voice immediately.

"Camille," he greeted. "I haven't seen you since..."

"_Since the boy? Yes, I remember. How are things between you two?_"

"Things are over between us, Camille. Much thanks to you," he rolled his eyes, knowing full well she couldn't see it.

"_I can't say I'm sorry to hear that,_" he could practically hear her smile. "_But anyway, Magnus, that's not the reason I called. There's... something bothering me. A man. He came to ask about you._"

Magnus frowned. Not many people knew about their history, unless it was another immortal. "What man?"

"_He said his name was Ravenlore._" Magnus froze. "_There's something about him, Magnus. I need to see you right away. Please._"

Magnus agreed, and even before she had hung up, he was up and through the door. Corvus Ravenlore was proving to be even deadlier than he thought, and he'd be damned if that man brought any harm to Camille as well. The Lady wasn't a very nice person. In fact, she was capable of horrible things, but Magnus had loved her once, and that was enough for him to want to keep her safe.

. . .

Jace Lightwood had been roaming the streets of New York, moving from one glamoured building to another. He knew it was slightly foolish, and that it was a great waste of time and energy, but it was all he could do for the moment. It was a wild guess, but Clary was probably hidden in a building occupied by Downworlders or Shadowhunters instead of a casual mundane place.

It gnawed at him. The regret and guilt swirled around his mind, and every second Clary remained unfound, he condemned himself for letting things end between them. If only they were still together, he wouldn't have left for France. Or maybe she would've gone with him. Either way, he would have been there to protect her. Now he was running around, with no particular destination to head to, and basically playing second fiddle to the warlock. It irked him how Magnus had been the first to hear of Clary's disappearance instead of him, though it made sense since he was out of the country. Still, jealousy wasn't something to be soothed by rationality.

The day was still young, but Jace was already worn. Slowing his pace, he approached another glamoured building, this one apparently private property, but that wasn't what stopped him. The appearance of a familiar warlock, however, halted Jace in his tracks. From where he stood, he watched Magnus Bane walk after a beautiful lady, her golden locks trailing down her back. The woman turned, and Jace saw that her eyes were a deep green, her skin seemed like it emitted a pale glow. The couple exchanged a few words, and the woman moved forward to give Magnus a tight embrace. Then she backed away, graceful and elegant, and gave him a smile before moving back into the recesses of the building.

Jace acted quickly to move himself out of sight as Magnus strode forth towards the street. He watched the warlock glance left and right as if making sure there was no one suspicious – though obviously he didn't see the blond Shadowhunter – then proceeded down the road. Jace attempted to move from his spot to follow the warlock, acting more on instinct rather than suspicion, but stopped when another figure crossed his path.

The figure wore a dark cloak with a hood that covered his head. Once again, Jace saw the lady who had spoken to Magnus walk back out of the building to greet the visitor. Then, the figure removed his hood and Jace froze. Pale skin and a shock of black hair – there was no mistaking that the man was Corvus Ravenlore. The Shadowhunter watched in horror as the woman gave Corvus a smile – a smile that was more sinister and knowing instead of friendly – and invited him in.

It didn't take a genius to see that things were bad. Jace slammed his fist into the wall he was hiding by, furious at how he had been fooled, how they all had been fooled. Corvus Ravenlore was working with the woman, whom he guessed was either a vampire or a warlock, which confirmed their theories that the man was not alone. But the worst part of it was that Magnus Bane was among their ranks. Seeing the warlock meet with the woman was all he needed to be convinced.

Immediately, Jace took off towards the Institute, hoping to catch the Lightwoods to break the news to them. If the enemy had anything planned, he needed to get to them before Magnus did, and when the warlock did appear, they would be ready.

. . .

"Enlighten me, dear children," Magnus said as he walked into the room, "on this important matter that couldn't wait?"

The three Shadowhunters had called for him, claiming to have found useful information on Clary's capture, and now stood in front of him in a confrontational manner.

"The important issue is," Jace stepped forward, unsheathing his blade and pointing it towards Magnus, "that we're discovered you're a traitor."

Magnus blinked. "I'm a lot of things, Shadowhunter, but I'm not a traitor... At least, not yet. Maybe at some point in my long, immortal life—"

"Where's Clary?" Isabelle demanded. Magnus noticed that the siblings also had their weapons drawn.

"Look," he raised his hands, "I don't know what it is you're talking about, but trust me, if I knew where Clary was, I would've gone to get her back already."

"You seemed awfully friendly with Corvus Ravenlore. For all we know you were the one who cast the spell to let him escape," Alec said.

"I guess you guys planned this from the start, huh? You, Corvus and that woman," Isabelle glared.

"Wait," Magnus frowned. "_What woman_?"

"Long blonde hair, green eyes. She's quite pretty if I do say so myself. Lady Camille, wasn't it? Alec told us. You screwed her in the past, so I don't see why you wouldn't want to go back to it," Jace shrugged.

"Is that why you're doing this? Because you want to get back at me?" Alec snapped. Even Isabelle looked surprised.

Now Magnus was irritated. "Do you really think I'd use such a childish method to get back at you? You should know me better than that, Alexander."

"Or maybe you're just getting back at us Shadowhunters in general. Everything you did before was completely free of charge, but maybe now you're unhappy with that. You want payment."

"Don't test me, Alexander," Magnus growled, his eyes morphing into cat-like slits. "I would let you all know that you're right, I don't like you Shadowhunters, but I'm doing this for Clary, and that's all."

"Clary's a big player in our Shadowhunter community. She's powerful," Jace said. "You're doing this because you need her."

"Guys, that's a bit—" Isabelle began.

"Give us Clary and we'll let this slip, _warlock_," Alec snarled.

Hurt flickered briefly in Magnus' eyes. He had gotten over Alec, that was true, but to hear someone who he had loved call him _warlock_ in that tone wasn't a very pleasant feeling. Magnus looked down at his feet, remaining silent for a while. Then, he laughed lightly. When he looked up, he met three cautious Shadowhunter eyes.

"Eight hundred years and it never ceases to amaze me how people can conjure up such ridiculous stories just to fit the incomplete images of situations they have in their minds," he smiled sadly. Then without warning, he raised his hands and the air in front of him exploded into blue flames.

Isabelle cried out in alarm as the blaze – burning in mid air without touching any physical material – reached forth towards the Shadowhunters. The area began to smoke and nothing was visible for several moments. When the place had cleared, Magnus was gone and there were no signs of any prior disturbances to the room, as if the fire and smoke had never happened. Alec cursed silently while Jace stalked up the open window to the right, no doubt where Magnus had escaped through.

"Now what?" Isabelle asked. "The warlock's a bad guy and we're left with no clues and no magic."

Jace moved past her and headed for the doors. "The only thing we can do," he said, his eyes dark. "We hunt."

. . .

It was already well into the night, but Lady Camille Belcourt was expecting someone. When there was a sharp knock on her door, she smiled. He had come. Rising gracefully, the vampire moved to open the door.

"You're working with Ravenlore." It wasn't an accusation, it was a statement, laced with poison. Magnus Bane stood at her doorstep, looking down at her from his full height, his cat-eyes blazing.

"Magnus," Camille cooed. "I knew you would come. Please," she moved aside, allowing him a path into her home.

The warlock went in without hesitation. Soon they were sitting opposite each other in her Victorian style lounge room, a glass of untouched wine on the table between them. Magnus' eyes had reverted back to normal.

"I know you're here for an explanation, and I'll give you one," Camille wore an amused smile on her face. "But only because I love you, so very much." She pursed her lips and laced her fingers, pondering for a while as if not knowing where to start. "Corvus Ravenlore is a Shadowhunter who was apprenticed by Valentine, as you already know. He is, in memory of his late mentor, working to bring about a new world, much like how Valentine wanted to rid the world of Downworlders."

"Then why are you working with him? You're a vampire."

"Because Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, may he rest in peace, was a good friend of Corvus'. I'm sure you realize how much of an influence the boy could be. Demons, and Downworlders – Corvus is in fact quite fond of them."

"So that's why you had the Shadowhunters think I betrayed them? Because I'm a Downworlder and you want me in your ranks?"

"Precisely, Magnus my dear. You've always been so very important to me. I'll admit, I played my part in ending your relationship with that boy because I just couldn't really stand seeing that you weren't mine," she smiled.

"It's amazing, the power of persuasion of a woman like Lady Camille," a voice spoke. An oddly familiar voice.

Magnus turned to see Corvus Ravenlore walk into the room, a glass of wine in his hand. "Magnus Bane," he greeted. "We meet again."

The warlock chuckled softly, mildly amused at how things had played out. "So I suppose you think that I'm just going to cooperate with you? Bring about yet another war?"

"Preferably," Corvus took a sip from his glass. "But all our Lady asks for is that you remain alive till the end. Personally I wouldn't mind putting an end to your years, Mr. Bane. You have proven capable of being quite a nuisance."

"But that wouldn't matter if you joined us, Magnus. At least, I don't think you hold any special preference for the Shadowhunters," Camille said. "Stay with us till this is over, and see how you like the new world."

Magnus seemed to ponder over this. He had no obligations towards the Shadowhunters, especially not after today. He was in this situation solely because of Clary, and getting her back was his main objective. "You're right. I don't particularly care for the Shadowhunters. In fact, I'm only here for Clary. Maybe we can strike a deal."

"Fear not, Mr. Bane. Clarissa Fray will remain safe. We only wish to make use of her abilities. If she cooperates, no harm shall come to her."

"I'll work with you as long as I get access to her. If I have your word the both of us will come out of this well and alive, I'll even convince her to help you, or rather, help _me_," Magnus grinned.

"You are wise as I thought, Mr. Bane." Corvus walked up to the seated warlock and extended his hand holding onto the glass. "To our partnership."

Magnus reached for his own glass, and stood for a toast, the light _clink_ of the glasses resonating through the otherwise quiet room. "To our partnership," he smiled.

When all was said and done, and Corvus had left, Magnus got himself up for departure as well. There were plans in motion for them to meet tomorrow, at their main base, which was where Clary was being kept.

"One more thing, Camille," Magnus said as he stepped through the door frame. "I haven't been told what this whole plan will result in."

"Oh?" Camille looked at him. "A revolution of course. But this time, my dear Magnus, the Downworlders will be the ones to thrive."

* * *

I apologize for the late update. Hopefully you guys enjoyed this chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR.**

Clarissa Fray had not seen sunlight in days. In fact, it could've been weeks, months or even just hours, but she decided to just go with days. Attempting to remain optimistic, she repeatedly told herself that things could have been worse. She was given food at regular intervals, though she noticed it didn't follow the schedule of the usual three main meals, but that was fine – as long as she didn't go hungry.

Periodically, her captor would come and talk to her. If the situation was different, Clary might even have thought that it was nice of him to take the trouble to interact with her. Through their talks she had learnt that his name was Corvus Ravenlore, and that he had been close with her brother, Jonathan. Though, that wasn't exactly a good thing, considering the type of person Jonathan had been when he was alive. Just last night, Corvus had come again, and before he left, told her that he would have a surprise for her.

Now, sitting in the cell, her arms still bound, Clary started to wonder what he had meant by surprise. Initially, she thought that it was something dark and twisted, a surprise in a sadistic context. But the more she thought about it, she realized that Corvus, as repulsive as what he was trying to do, was an honest person.

The sound of shoes clicking against the pavement had her snap her attention back to the present, but she wasn't alarmed. Corvus had come so many times that having someone visit her in a dungeon wasn't anything special anymore. What did surprise her, though, was that the visitor wasn't Corvus Ravenlore.

"_Magnus_?" Clary stared at the warlock, eyes wide.

"Clary," Magnus grinned. "It's good to see you again."

"How—" Clary tried to move forward but was held back by the chains. Putting aside the fact that she was bound, she turned her attention back to Magnus. "How did you find me? You have to help. Th-This guy... Corvus Ravenlore. He was Valentine's—"

"Clary! It's alright, I know. Calm down." Magnus held out a set of keys, dangling it on his finger. He then unlocked the door to enter the cell, and proceeded to remove the chains on Clary. He noted that both the door and the chains had symbols on them, much like runes, but different.

"What are you doing here, Magnus? Corvus might come back any second—"

"It's okay, Clary," Magnus silenced her by pulling her into a tight embrace, surprising both Clary and himself. He rested his cheek on her head, his hand stroking her back gently.

Slowly, he began to feel the girl in his arms start to tremble. Then he heard soft sobs escape her throat. "Shh," he whispered. "It's okay."

Clary hadn't realized how scared she had been throughout the whole situation, from being kidnapped to locked up alone in this darkness, away from sunlight or fresh air. She hadn't seen a familiar face in days, but now that Magnus was here, she broke down.

The two held each other for what seemed like hours, but neither minded. The warmth they provided for each other was all they needed. Finally, Magnus pulled away slowly, then held her face is his hands, his thumbs wiping away her tears.

"I won't let any harm come to you, Clary," he smiled softly.

"Are... are you here alone?" she asked.

"Yes, and... no," he bit his lower lip. Then, he sat back, crossing his legs so that he and Clary were face to face. A prime position for discussions and explanations. "I uh, I'm working with Corvus."

"_What_?" Clary let her mouth hang open in shock.

"Wait, let me explain," he raised his hands. "Corvus is... he's not like your father. Well, not _exactly_ like your father. I don't really agree with that he's doing, but as an immortal warlock, it doesn't really affect me. I only agreed to help him because of you, Clary. He gave me my word that no harm would come to you."

She eyed the warlock suspiciously for a moment before nodding slowly. Magnus was her best chance at _anything_ in his situation, so she really didn't have a choice but to trust him.

"Corvus told me that he needs your powers, Clary. I know you don't want to help him, but he will kill you if you don't."

"Then let him," Clary said stubbornly. "I don't want to help him hurt others."

"But _I_ don't want him to hurt _you_," Magnus said, his voice tight. "If you die here, there will be no hope, Clary. But if you help him, if you live, we can fix things at the very least. I didn't come all the way here to watch you die, and if you insist on being stubborn so help me I will find a way to make you comply."

Clary stared at the warlock in awe. Sure, she always knew Magnus had cared for her. After all, he had practically watched her grow up. He knew her far better than the Shadowhunters. But to think he cared _this much_... She could see the emotion in his eyes, the pain and fear and sadness, and for a moment she almost felt like crying. Magnus had probably been through situations similar to this so many times – losing someone he cared about. Though she wasn't immortal, Clary could see, through Magnus, that it was a painful and lonely voyage.

"Okay," she nodded. "Alright. I promise you, I won't give up. Whatever this guy is planning, I'm going to stop him."

"And I'll be with you every second of it. Now first," he got himself up, then helped her stand. She would probably be needing his support for a while. After all, Clary had been forced to sit on the ground for days. "Let's get out of here. I'm not going to let you rot in a musty dungeon for a second longer."

With most of Clary's weight against him, Magnus led the girl down the long passageway, lit by flaming torches attached to the walls at regular intervals, both sides lined with several more cells, all of which were, fortunately, empty. Eventually they reached the end of the corridor, at which the structure of a spiral staircase had been placed. Clary took one look down the other end and realized that the only way out of this eerie place, was up.

"Great," she muttered to herself. Hopefully she would be able to muster up enough strength to get her legs working properly, else Magnus have to stop every two steps to wait for her. It would take them an hour to get to the top that way. But before she could set her foot on the first step, Clary felt both her legs lift up and her upper body tilted back, and she let out a yelp. It took her another second to realize that Magnus had lifted her up into his arms, and by instinct her arms had already locked around his neck.

"You're welcome," he smirked.

Usually she would have a comment for him, but instead, she looked down, avoiding his eyes. This wasn't a usual situation, because never before had she found herself being carried by Magnus Bane. To Clary, this reaction was perfectly reasonable.

The warlock began his ascend towards the higher level, though considerably slowed as he had to be mindful of the girl in his arms. He was, putting aside the fact that he did care for Clary a lot more than others, a gentleman after all.

From Clary's position, slightly curled against Magnus' chest, she felt her cheeks grow warm. Even without a mirror at her disposal, she had no doubt that the blush staining her cheeks was about the same shade as her fiery hair. Eventually, they reached the top of the stairs, which opened up into a large, Victorian themed living room.

"Wow," Clary stared in awe. She was no expert with interior design, but it didn't take much to know how to appreciate beautiful furnishings. "Are these... real antiques?" she asked, running her fingers over a cabinet next to her – one within reach from Magnus' hold.

"Yes," he said dryly. "The owner has a particular liking for décor from the 1800s, and I'm sure she's had time to... collect these." What he didn't mention was that the house belonged to Camille, who owned multiple properties in various major cities, most of which were furnished in accordance to the style of the Victorian era, which she claimed to be the best point in her life as of yet. It was a wonder how well preserved the objects were, but when it came to Camille, Magnus didn't doubt her abilities.

"Magnus?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you put me down now?"

Magnus looked down at Clary, who was looking up at him, and realized that he had completely forgotten that he was holding her. Fortunately his arms didn't go slack, or she'd fall. Now _that_ would've been amusing. With a grin, he let her down gently, then immediately reached for her arm to support her. In that manner, he led her through a door, down a hall, through another door, another hall, and finally stopped outside a closed door.

"Enter, your highness," Magnus used his free hand to gesture.

Clary eyed him skeptically, but reached out to open the door. The room was huge, and the décor was just as grand and magnificent as every other area of the house she had seen. She took small steps into the space, and realized that there was even a massive bathroom attached. A small but elaborate chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the edges of the walls where it connected the ceiling were lined with intricate designs. She stood admiring the beauty of the place for a few moments, then turned back to Magnus.

"Aren't I a prisoner?" she frowned. "Isn't this a little too... nice?"

The warlock chucked and ushered her further into the room. "Under normal circumstances it would be a little too much, but this time, they're working with _me_. This is _far_ from what I'd call extravagant demands."

"I can't even begin to imagine," she mumbled.

"Get a shower, Clary," Magnus let go of her and opened a few of the built-in wall cabinets, before finding what he was looking for. "I'll be back when you get out, that's for sure," he tossed her a white towel. "Unless, you need me to stand guard here, seeing as you might not be comfortable being in such a vulnerable state inside enemy territory."

Clary caught the thick cloth and scoffed. "I'll be fine, thank you very much," she said as she headed for the bathroom. At the entrance, she paused. "But if you want to stay..." she said quietly, just only realizing how insecure she would feel showering in such strange surroundings. Then she shut the door.

The warlock grinned to himself before heading for the door. "Standing guard outside counts too."

When Magnus stepped out of the room, Corvus was standing to the side, waiting, just as expected.

"Corvus," Magnus greeted.

"You're really making yourself comfortable, aren't you?" the man looked like he was going to sigh, but refrained.

"Well yes," Magnus blinked. "I'm the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and Clary's a dear friend. Naturally, I'd be used to the high standards and I'd want her to feel comfortable. Also, you probably need me, for whatever reason. Camille isn't the only reason you're allowing me into this."

The Shadowhunter waved his hand in dismissal, not bothering to confirm or deny Magnus' statement. "Do what you want, as long as you cooperate. Besides, I'm sure Lady Camille is more than happy to accommodate your needs."

"Of course," he drawled. "Camille knows me well enough."

Corvus seemed to have had enough of the conversation, so with a nod, he left, and Magnus turned back into the room. The sound of water running filled the otherwise silent room. The warlock sat down on the bed and waited. He wasn't a very patient person, but this he could do, as long as the waiting process wasn't irritating, a clear example of when he _did _get irked was when he had to wait for the Shadowhunters to get out of his apartment. Many a time.

Looking around, the warlock smirked contentedly at his choice. Magnus had personally selected the room for Clary, with his own being just next door. There were various reasons, with one being the scenery that was available from the window.

The building that they were staying in looked no more spectacular than a small apartment block by the East River, but to all those who could see past the glamour, it was much more than that. In its place, a large mansion stood tall in all its 19th century glory. The building of course belonged to none other than Lady Camille Belcourt, but was made to be believed to be property of a certain Archer Walker. Of course, Archer Walker was neither Shadowhunter nor Downworlder, for he did not even exist. Camille had merely created a fictional being to register the property under, taking the names from her two late human subjugates. A sort of memorial, Magnus supposed. She _was_ quite fond of the two. Along with that and the reasoning that having assets that were _not_ registered to her name made it harder to be tracked. And should any crisis befall her, there would be places to take sanctuary, even if her other known assets were under tight watch.

Finally, Magnus heard the water go off. He conjured, or rather, teleported a set of clothes onto the bed, smirking in self-satisfaction at the black T-shirt and blood red jeans and he had chosen for Clary. Admittedly, she was more into dull clothing, but he couldn't help himself from adding just a splash of colour. Besides, it wasn't as if she had much of a choice to go against his preference in fashion unless she wanted to run around without any clothes on. Magnus grinned, thinking about how he would get to pick out her wardrobe for the next, well, however long this lasted. This was going to be _fun_.

* * *

And so our main duo finally meet. Hopefully this chapter was good enough for you guys!


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE.**

"Very funny," Clary glared at the warlock, one hand on her hip while the other held up a black bra, at least five sizes bigger than what she actually wore. On the bed was an array of other sizes, one of which she saw would probably fit. The wide selection was, on his part, an act of consideration, but the one in her hand was definitely Magnus' idea of a joke.

Magnus, who had made himself comfortable leaning against the bed board with his head resting in his hands, merely grinned. "I thought it would be better to have a wider range. Saves me the trouble of having to get another set a second time round."

She stuck his tongue out at him before proceeding to pick out the right size. "Do you mind?" she gestured to herself, the wet towel just barely covering her figure. Magnus pouted, but moved to exit the room.

Once he had left, Clary removed the towel and dressed herself, raising an eyebrow when she pulled up the jeans, and smiling when she pulled down the T-shirt. Then, she wandered around the large room, opening the cabinets and drawers in search of a hairdryer. Two minutes later and she gave up. Maybe everything in this building was so Victorian that such _advanced_ devices didn't have a place here.

Then the door opened and Magnus strolled in. "Looking for something?"

"No," Clary closed the last drawer. "And mind you, knock before coming into someone's room. I could've still been changing."

"If you took that long then it really wouldn't be my fault," he shrugged. "Anyway, come with me," he motioned.

Clary walked from her spot to stand next to him, where he pulled open the heavy velvet drapes to reveal a set of glass doors, leading out onto a large balcony. The Shadowhunter gasped when she walked out and noticed the beautiful scenery of the East River flowing just several metres from the building. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen the East River before, but her parents' apartment was placed in a far from ideal location in terms of scenery.

"Let's just hope your parents don't check your room and notice that your drawing tools are missing," Magnus walked up from behind her, holding up her sketchbook and a few of her favourite graphite pencils.

"Magnus," she smiled, clearly overjoyed at the idea of being reunited with her equipment. Being in that dungeon for so long had blinded her imagination, but the view right now was doing a wonderful job of returning her artistic vision.

Clary knew that she was letting herself get lost in the illusion of freedom far more than she should, but at that moment she couldn't help but think that this was all she wanted in life. It was as if Magnus had come, burning brightly, into the darkness of her life and took away everything she had feared and abhorred. She was still a prisoner, and she would be made to cooperate. She understood that, and couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt for the joy that encircled her in place of what should have been dread. But, looking at Magnus and the smirk on his face, Clary honestly believed that they would be able to get out of the mess they were in.

. . .

"So Magnus Bane is working for this Corvus fellow?" Maryse Lightwoord frowned at her children, including the adoptive son.

"I doubt he'd be pleased with your implication that he works _under_ Ravenlore, but yes," Jace stated dryly.

"So the warlock shows his true colours," she sighed. "Aren't you lucky that you have nothing to do with him anyway, Alexander."

Alec merely looked away, clearly upset with the fact that Magnus had betrayed them. Things were over between them, but he didn't think that the warlock would change sides and go against them.

"They're also working with Lady Camille Belcourt," Isabelle informed. "We've locked down on the building they were spotted in, along with all her other known properties, but there appears to be no movement."

"Great," Maryse threw her hands up in exasperation. "We have three insanely formidable individuals running around plotting a revolution and there's nothing we can do about it."

"But it doesn't make sense," Jace said. "If Corvus was working to do what his mentor couldn't – that's to say, rid the world of Downworlders – why would Magnus and Camille be cooperating with him?"

"That means he has something to gain," Alec spoke. "From what I know of Magnus, he's... smart. Calculative. Ruthless. His working with Corvus implies that there's at least something good coming out of it. Maybe money."

"He's got lots of money."

"He still likes money."

"What if it's to keep Clary safe?" Isabelle put it forward. She knew that the warlock was indeed rather fond of Clary, considering their history. It wasn't too far of a stretch to think that all this was for her.

"Clary?' Jace repeated. "You honestly think Magnus would do something like this for Clary? Valentine wanted Downworlders _exterminated_. That warlock isn't going to jeopardize himself for someone else."

"Bit harsh," Isabelle muttered, aware that even _that warlock_ could have a compassionate side. She'd seen it. She knew Alec had too.

"Alright," Maryse silenced them. "Let's just do what we always do. Spread out and scout. See if any other Downworlders know anything. Check the clubs, everything."

"Fine by me," Jace said, immediately heading for the exit. There was nothing he wanted more at that very moment than to have Clary safely by his side. If that meant draining everything he had to find her, and even killing that warlock, so be it.

. . .

"My assets have all been frozen," Camille announced.

Magnus yawned exaggeratedly from where he sat, opposite his former lover, with Corvus to his right. "Shame."

"It is to be expected, my Lady," Corvus said. "But save your worries. When this is over, all shall be returned to you. Even the Institute will be handed over if you wish, along with any other Shadowhunter sanctuaries."

The vampire smiled, pleased at the revelation.

"How is Clarissa Fray?" Corvus turned to Magnus.

"Fine," he said. "Being kept occupied, I presume. And don't worry, I told her not to leave the room. Actually I locked the door with a spell, but she didn't need to know that." At Camille's amused smile, he added, "I wouldn't want her running around gaining information on things she doesn't have to know about, much less break one of your priceless antiques."

"How thoughtful," Camille cooed.

"I see now Mr. Bane, that you take no chances when it comes to Clarissa," Corvus was mildly amused. "You do well at keeping to your goal of keeping her safe."

Magnus merely shrugged.

"Alas, trivial matters aside," Corvus sat forward. "I suppose it's time I tell the both of you what our plan will incur, and for that I must start with sharing a hidden historic fact. I'm sure you know of Clarissa's ability to hide physical objects in paper?" At the nods received, he continued. "Of course, her mother was not the first one able of such skill. Throughout the centuries, numerous other Nephilim have been shown to possess this power, but the very first, was none other than Abigail Shadowhunter.

"It's been said that Abigail had a fiancé, whom her brother, Jonathan Shadowhunter, wasn't too fond of. That we know, but the hidden part of this whole situation is that she was engaged to a Downworlder, and a warlock at that."

Magnus blinked while Camille's eyes widened at the reveal.

"What?" Magnus asked.

"A warlock," Corvus repeated. "I suppose you can imagine how hard it was for her to be in love with someone her brother so strongly disapproved of. There were struggles, I've been told. Eventually, they broke it off, and that was the real reason why Abigail had left the front lines, only to immerse herself in the studies of the Gray Book and other aspects of their occupation.

"But before that, there was a time when the young Abigail, foolishly in love, almost decided to end her brother's reign. Not only that, but she wanted all the Shadowhunters vanquished. Needless to say, the girl was swayed by her lover. That particular warlock wasn't a very noble being.

"With the help of her fiancé, Lilith herself was summoned, and Abigail convinced the Mother of Demons to help her construct an almighty sceptre in which a rare jewel served as the head. But that was not merely a rare jewel; it was, through Lilith, infused with the power of Sammael, the former Archangel of Death. The sceptre's frame was said to have been forged in the fires of Hell, the jewel soaked in Lilith's own blood."

"I thought Sammael was dead," Magnus pointed out.

"It is what we are led to believe. Lilith has not said a word, but the Greater Demon lives. His essence is spread thin, but it is still there."

"So what does this sceptre do?" Camille asked.

"In simple terms, it obliterates Shadowhunters within a certain radius. The magic within the sceptre causes the angel blood within their bodies to simply combust, destroying them in every sense of the word."

"You want to retrieve this sceptre, then run around the world making Shadowhunters combust?" Magnus asked, incredulous. Sure, it beat having to actually battle and kill all of those skilled Nephilim individually, but still.

"And that is where the technological advancements of the modern world will prove their use. Worry not, Mr Bane. I have already gained access to certain… machinery that will be able to amplify the effects of the sceptre."

Magnus and Camille sat in stunned silence, beyond awed at the sheer brilliance of the plan, though a sliver of terror leaked through. To think that such a powerful weapon existed, and that it was created by none other than Abigail Shadowhunter.

"And this sceptre," Camille spoke, "where can we find it?"

"That is where Clarissa Fray enters," Corvus smiled. "Within, my Lady. All she has to do is to draw out the sceptre from an ancient parchment."

"So all the Shadowhunters on earth would be wiped out, just like that? Apologies, Corvus, but if it's so simply why hasn't anyone else thought of that before?" Magnus raised an eyebrow.

"Simply because none of them have been as persistent as I. I have travelled the world and searched all the sacred shrines and archives. Met countless individuals of all forms. My whole life, I've dedicated for this cause. Most importantly, I've done what no one else has – I listened to the words of Abigail Shadowhunter's fiancé, the warlock Authari himself."

. . .

The graphite tip scratched along the surface of the paper as Clarissa Fray finished up her sketch of the East River. The girl had seated herself on the wooden deckchair placed on the balcony, and had remained there for almost an hour. Magnus had excused himself after handing her drawing equipment over, and Clary was eternally grateful towards the now-absent warlock. After being stuck in the dungeon for so long, her hands were itching to work.

With her current piece of work completed, Clary began absently flipping through the pages of her sketchbook, through her old drawings. There was a portrait of her mother, of Luke, an impression of the Institute… then she came to the page she had been working on before her abduction – a half-finished sketch of a faceless man. Clary stared at it, at the broad shoulders, the cut of the suit, the undrawn face. The whole head was just a roughly sketched circle and a light angle of the jawline. She had merely been bored when she drew it, lacking inspiration and purpose. But as her eyes trained on the picture, it dawned on her. Clary knew who it would portray.

A light knock originating from the room turned her attention from the sketchbook towards the door as it was pried open gently, dark shiny hair emerging from the crack followed by a grinning face. Magnus stuck his head through the doorway, his body following as he strode into the room.

"Done drawing?" he asked.

"Just," Clary closed her sketchbook. She stood and went over to place it on the desk next to where Magnus was, leaning against the wall. "How are battle operations?"

"Good," Magnus played along, "no lives at risk yet."

"Surprise," she grinned. Then her expression turned serious. "You still haven't told me what Corvus is planning."

"That's for me to know and for you to... not know."

"Magnus," she said sternly. "I think I deserve access to this information, especially since I'm supposed to be some important... asset," she frowned. "Corvus said that he was going to carry out Valentine's plans, and that was to obliterate all the Downworlders. How are you an exception?"

"Because I'm helping him," Magnus said. "I'm useful. And to be honest, if I'm going to die either way I might as well try to save you, at the very least."

Clary went over to the bed and let herself fall back. The quilts were surprisingly soft. "This is so frustrating," she muttered. "I can't do anything and I don't know anything."

The warlock walked over and sat beside her. "Look, I get how you feel, but really, the less you know the better it is. Though I'll tell you one thing... I'm going to leave you for a few days."

. . .

Back in the lounge, Camille and Corvus sat staring at each other, a neutral expression on their faces. Magnus had just left to go to Clary after being briefed on what he was needed for. The warlock had been assigned the task of meeting with an important figure, being told that the journey was essential to their plans. As it turned out, he was being sent to face Authari himself. Of course, he'd asked why Camille, or even Corvus himself could not do it, but all he got in reply from the mastermind was that the warlock did not like Corvus very much. There was no further expansion on why that was the case. Though Magnus had voiced no further objection, Camille had seen the unwillingness in his eyes.

"He's worried about leaving Clary here," Camille stated.

"You know him well," the Shadowhunter smiled. "Though I suppose his worries do not go without reason. Mr. Bane cares greatly for the girl."

"I'm almost jealous," she said. "Though I suppose I understand. We weren't exactly accommodating towards her at the start."

Corvus stood. "So I suppose I could make up for that."

"What will you do?" the vampire raised an eyebrow.

"Demonstrate some kindness."

. . .

"_You're going to Nepal?_" Clary stared at her friend, eyes wide in surprise.

"Yeap," Magnus said. "Off to meet someone."

"And you're leaving me here?"

"Yeap," he repeated.

"Magnus!"

"Magnus indeed," he muttered. "Look, I don't want to leave you, but it can't be hel—"

"Mr. Bane." a voice spoke from the doorway.

The couple redirected their attention from each other to the new speaker. When they saw that it was Corvus who had spoken, Magnus raised an eyebrow while Clary scowled instinctively at seeing the man.

"Yes, Corvus?" the warlock asked.

"Take her," he said. "I am not man without morals. But remember this, Mr. Bane – try not to pull a quick one on us. A single act of treachery, and Clarissa's parents will pay the price." Then he left.

Magnus stopped for a moment to gape at what the man had just said, but immediately turned his attention to Clary when he felt a shift in the atmosphere.

"Clary?"

"Does he have my parents?" she looked at him, horrified.

"No, of course not. But he does know where to find them. Now excuse me."

Magnus got up and ran out of the room, down the corridor and caught up to Corvus just as he rounded the corner.

"Corvus," the warlock said, quiet but harsh. "What are you thinking?" One would think that Magnus would be delighted at the revelation, but in his current situation, bringing Clary along would only make it harder to keep the nature of their plan hidden.

"I'm thinking that it would be good for Clarissa to leave with you. Think of this as an act of kindness. Besides, it would do well to perhaps gain more of your trust, if only slightly."

The very next day, Magnus and Clary were on board a flight set for Nepal.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE.**

Now, some answers.

Yes! This is a Magnus/Clary fic! There really aren't many out there for this pairing, so I supposed that I'd try to contribute to our tiny fandom.

And greygirl2358, I totally get what you mean about people dismissing the fact that Magnus is bisexual and not just homosexual. Glad I could showcase that fact!

To the rest of you, thank you so much for your input! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX.**

"Magnus Bane has been spotted at the airport." Maryse Lightwood marched into the hall, looking at the other three Shadowhunters she had summoned to the place.

"Was he going somewhere or receiving someone?" Isabelle asked.

"Going. I've contacted our associates in the country of his arrival and asked for them to track him. As for capturing him, the three of you are going. This warlock is dangerous and I'm not risking anything. The quickest flight I could get you takes off in just over an hour."

"Where was he headed to?" Jace asked, already heading for the exit.

"Nepal. Oh, and guys – there was a girl with him," Maryse paused. "Red hair, green eyes."

Alec swore.

"So he really was working with them," Jace said, his voice cold. Sharing a glance with his adoptive siblings, resolution dawned, and they left immediately.

. . .

"You would think an ancient warlock would pick a better place to live," Clary muttered as they tracked through the narrow path. According to Corvus, who had gathered information from several other sources, Authari had chosen to make his home in a small, rural village in Nepal, miles away from the capital city of Kathmandu, and Clary wasn't too thrilled about the distance. It had been a long flight from the States, and together with the time it took for them to navigate their way here, saying she was tired was only a fraction of what she felt.

"Some people like to stay hidden," Magnus told her, though it was evident that he wasn't too pleased with the environment himself. High Warlocks did not usually accustom themselves to places such as these.

After several long, painful minutes later, they arrived in front of an old, ramshackle looking cottage. Magnus stared at the little building for a few seconds, comparing it to his mind's image of the place using Corvus' descriptions – dirty, ugly and topped with a brown roof that looked like it was going to cave in any second. _Close enough_, he thought.

The warlock rapped his knuckles on the wooden door, flimsy and rotting. Approximately three seconds later the door, which looked a lot more like just a large plank of plywood, shifted open, and a tall, dishevelled looking man in a shabby robe stood in its place. His hair was grey and unkempt; his skin pale as if he hadn't seen the sun in years; his build, though not frail, didn't give the impression of fitness.

"What do you want?" he asked, a scowl plastered onto his face.

"Oh, good," Magnus said. "And here I was worrying that you might even try to speak to us in some foreign dialect. Though, that would be overdoing it a little in terms of demonstrating your sanity. It's a pleasure to meet you, Authari."

"You. Warlock. And you. Shadowhunter. I sense you from mile away."

"Put up wards, I see."

"None of you's business."

"May we come in?" Magnus asked. "Surely, you haven't forgotten Corvus Ravenlore? I'm here on his behalf."

At the mention of Corvus, Authari's nose wrinkled in disgust. "That man is disgusting. It is good you come and not him. But you," his eyes narrowed. "You bring Shadowhunter."

Clary blinked at the elderly warlock but said nothing. It would do no good to voice her dissatisfaction, especially not in front of him – not when they needed him for well, whatever it is they were going to do. Besides, she was too busy wondering how he managed to live in this poor excuse of a home.

"Apologies, but I had to. So, can we enter?" Magnus asked again.

Authari glared at him for a moment before stepping aside, making a show of looking utterly displeased, and quickly shutting the door right after they had gone in. With a quick look around, the two of them could very well determine that the interior was almost as bad as the exterior. Most of the furniture was made of wood, all similarly looking like they would break any moment. Strange trinkets were lined along the tables, shelves and cabinets, looking very much like a shaman's place.

"Now, Mr. Authari, if you please," Magnus began, making no move to sit down, or touch anything for that matter. "The parchment. The sceptre."

The old warlock wagged his finger. "Not so fast, child. Parchment is not here. Parchment is somewhere else. And also..." he grinned. It was not a very nice grin. "I won't give you. Not now. Not here."

"And why is that?"

"Shadowhunter."

"Me?" Clary arched an eyebrow.

"No. Other. There is three."

Magnus and Clary's eyes widened simultaneously. "_Three_?" Magnus asked.

"Yes three. They just come. My wards see them. You been followed, fool," he cackled. "I cannot help you here, but find me again." His body started to glow a pale blue, lightly shimmering. Instinctively, Clary had drawn her blade while Magnus readied himself for any defensive spell casting.

"Don't worry," the man said. "I must go now." His voice had changed. It sounded deeper. "But find me again, if you wish. In Italy. I hold magnificent parties of sophistication." Even his way of speech had changed. "I trust the great Magnus Bane will be able to find me." His form rippled, gently, then violently. The room was engulfed in a bright flash, then he was gone.

"What?" Clary asked, her question aimed at no one in particular.

"What," Magnus repeated. Then he snapped out of whatever trance, awed or dumbfounded state he was in. "Clary, we need to go. It's probably the Lightwoods." When she seemed to hesitate, he gripped her arm. "Your parents are at risk," he reminded her.

That was enough to get her going, and together, hastily, they left the premises, running through the tall grasslands surrounding the village. They didn't have a clue as to where they were going, but any direction was fine as long the Shadowhunters didn't reach them. All the while, thoughts were running through Magnus' head. Italy. Parties. A warlock. There were numerous names that came to mind. _Magnificent parties of sophistication,_ the man had said. Then it struck him – a warlock that held sophisticated parties in Italy. Formal dance parties. Balls. As the High Warlock of Brooklyn, it was his business to know of others much like him, and from the extensive database of knowledge wired into his head, there was only one person he knew of that fitted that exact description.

"Aesir Reiss," he said out loud as they ran.

"What?" Clary glanced at him.

"Aesir Reiss," he repeated. "I've figured who he really is."

"Great," she panted. "Now we just have to outrun our friends."

"Your friends."

"Right. Mine." Clary thought for a moment. "Actually not mine. Not all. Just Izzy."

"Fair enough."

Eventually, Magnus felt no other presences besides those of the various creatures roaming the grassy lands, and theorized that the Shadowhunters had either lost them, or stopped to investigate the other warlock's home.

"I guess we're safe for now," he told Clary, stopping.

"And?" she asked, leaning with her hands on her knees.

"And so we get another flight," Magnus wiped the sweat from his brow. "I can't say I'm used to running from Shadowhunters in rural areas. Imagine that, the great Magnus Bane in this situation."

Clary made a sound. It sounded like she found the situation funny.

"Don't mock me, Clary. This is really kind of your fault. Now let's get ourselves some plane tickets. Mind you, I'm getting one for business class. You on the other hand can fly economy, a specially allocated seat at the back of the plane so you can feel it sway. Might give you a headache though."

Clary made another sound. This time it seemed like she wasn't pleased.

. . .

"Christ, Magnus." Clary sat herself down in the arrivals lounge. They had just stepped off a eleven hour flight from Nepal to Italy, and she was exhausted. Though, she was also immensely grateful that Magnus had let her fly business class with him. The space it provided was a blessing.

The tall warlock merely stared down at her. "What?"

"Aren't you tired? No jetlag?"

"I'm a warlock, Clary. No. But fine, I understand. Wait here."

Magnus turned and left – in whatever direction she failed to see because she had closed her eyes – and when he returned, there was a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Here. Apparently it wakes you up," he handed it to her. "And if you would hurry and get your ass up, we'd very well be at a hotel in less than an hour, where you can get proper rest."

With a grumble, Clary pushed herself up, but was delighted at the notion of rest. As they walked, she sipped from her cup, and by the time they were in a taxi, she felt refreshed enough to sightsee. Magnus had told the driver something in Italian, and off they went, through the streets of a country alien to her eyes. The buildings, people and the culture, everything was evidently different even by a glance through glass, but Clary found solace in seeing that the Downworlders and Shadowhunters she saw remained the same. At one point, she thought that a woman had been pointedly staring at her, or rather, past her and at Magnus who sat on her left, but their car soon left her in the dust, and Clary dismissed the observation.

"So, where are we staying?" she asked Magnus.

"Hotel Feralis. I've been there a few times. Not bad really," he said.

"You're the expert."

"Yet another perk among the many that come with being immortal," the warlock smirked. "There are few countries I have not set foot in."

Clary glanced at the divider between them and the driver, thankful for its placement. Otherwise, they'd have a very confused man in the front seat, what with Magnus and all his immortal talk. Approximately fifteen minutes later, the taxi came to a stop, and they got out, with Magnus pulling out a large bill and saying something to the driver, who then started thanking him profusely, even engulfing the warlock in a hug. It was quite a sight – a short, stout, bubbly man locked in embrace with a glittered, colourful one who towered over him by at least a head. Clary couldn't help herself from giggling, which earned her a glare from the warlock.

About another half an hour later, both were checked in and settled, given individual rooms next to each other. Save for Clary's backpack filled with drawing equipment, they carried no luggage, and so had nothing to unpack. As for her clothes, Magnus had conjured up a few casual outfits which now lay on an armchair to the side.

The room was reasonably sized, maybe a little larger than the space needed by a single person, but Clary had no complaints. The interior of the room was decorated specially to give an Italian feel, with a tall window overlooking the street. She fell back onto the soft bed. A time would come for her to have a lovely, hot bath in the fancy bathroom to her right, but that time was later. Magnus had told her before they entered their respective rooms, that there would be nothing else for today, and she didn't protest. For now, all she wanted was rest.

. . .

_Heavy droplets rained down, persistent and unrelenting. The dark, stormy sky was a reflection of the situation Magnus had found himself in. With his whole body soaking wet, it had taken a while to notice the wound by his side. The sticky, crimson liquid that poured out immediately washed down and diluted by the rain._

_Blinking hard, he noticed three figures on the ground. Two struggling, one unmoving. Another blink, and he realized it was the Shadowhunters. Isabelle was crawling, Alec was unconscious, and Jace was fighting to stand. The blond boy was shouting, but Magnus couldn't quite hear it. All the sounds were mixed, vague. It all seemed like white noise._

_With the turn of his head, he spotted Corvus. The man was clad in black, but he could see the blood that stained his clothes. Magnus wanted to ask them, ask them what was happening, but he couldn't speak. His mouth opened, but his voice could not be heard._

_Then, he saw her, on her knees behind Corvus._

_He watched her, watched Clary struggle to move forward. Her hair wet, face bruised, battered and bloodied. The sleeve of her jacket was torn, and Magnus could tell that she was within an inch of her life. Each reach forward caused him as much pain as it caused her. The warlock wanted to scream, to tell her to stop, but he could not. Magnus looked down at himself, and found that he was caged within a circle of symbols. Realization dawned on him – he was trapped in a binding spell only time could break._

_Helpless and hopeless, the warlock watched as shadows danced around Corvus, his arms rising in summoning. Then he jerked forward. Magnus watched it all unfold. Clary, in her slow but determined crawl, had reached the man, lunged, and the girl had plunged a dagger into his back. A wave of triumph washed over Magnus, but it all came crashing down as Corvus whipped around and struck her girl across her face. Even with the distance, Magnus could see his eyes, depthless, dark, merciless. The Shadowhunter waved his hand and drew a sword from the shadows, poised it for a strike that would end it all._

_Magnus screamed._

_All the sound came rushing back. He could hear the rain, hear Jace shouting, hear his own voice._

"_Clary!" he lunged forward, the spell finally wearing off._

_Clary looked up, just in time to see the blade being brought down upon her._

Magnus woke with a start. Breathing heavily, he stared ahead into the darkness of the room. A few seconds passed, and his mind redirected itself back to reality. _Just a nightmare_, he realized. Then he frowned. Magnus rarely ever had dreams, let alone nightmares.

Settling himself back into bed, Magnus sighed. Everything had been so vivid. The panic that shot through him, the hopelessness, the _fear_. The image of the sword swinging down on Clary was still burning in his mind, her scream still ringing in his ears…

_Wait_. He sat up, and listened carefully. Then he realized the screaming wasn't just echoing in his mind. It was happening _now_.

In an instant, Magnus was up and out of his room and blasting open the door to Clary's. He rushed in to find the girl in the bunched up covers, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Clary!" he grabbed her hands and shook, gently. "Wake up! It's only a dream."

Soon, her eyes opened, and the screams stopped. She looked at him, bewildered, her cheeks stained with tears. "Magnus," she whispered.

"It's only a dream," he told her again, sitting down beside her and holding her in his arms.

She broke out into soft sobs as he cradled her, running his hand down her hair soothingly. It wasn't long before she eventually fell back into the oblivion of sleep. Magnus set her back down, gently pulling the covers over her, lightly wiping away the tear streaks on her face.

"Sleep well," he murmured, kissing her on the forehead. Before he left, Magnus waved his hand and a shower of pale blue particles, much like snow, settled over the room.

Clary had never slept more comfortably.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES.**

Yes, I did make a name change in the previous chapter.


End file.
